


Campus Recompense

by PAPerryman



Series: Service Robot's Story [5]
Category: Callisto 6 (Web Series)
Genre: CallistoFics, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 14:57:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17286203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PAPerryman/pseuds/PAPerryman
Summary: A call for help to unravel the surprising resilience of a service robot leads to a requital over a decade's worth of tension.A Callisto 6 StoryBased on the setting created by Eric Campbell and Sam de Leve





	Campus Recompense

Carrot Hanover faltered at the main gate of the University of California, Los Angeles as he took in the midday, autumnal campus vibe through his only eye. He steadied his lanky frame then beamed with a smile as wide as a bruin’s ass. A long, stone and brick layered path led to the rebuilt but historic main hall. Behind it stood the modern Henry Samueli Building which served as headquarters to the School of Engineering. Students mulled about in the courtyard’s milieu. Their passive chatter overlapped in the air as their activated AR glasses layered what they saw.

“This was the best place I’ve ever been thrown out of, Sir.”

The service robot to his left stood still, but responded in its polished voice. “It does not…,” Sir paused and started over, “I do not understand, Carrot. You were physically removed from UCLA campus?”

“In cuffs. In aught-nine. In disgrace and in pride.” Carrot took a step forward and the robot joined him in a matched stride of gear-strokes and creaky joints. “I thought I was helping folks back then. Thought I recognized people who needed it too. Now, seems I’m finding that more than just the fleshy bits of us need a hand.”

“I… need help, Carrot. I want to learn how I can help Sweetheart and Dees and Wez and you. Without Central Authority giving updates, I rely on the programming installed.”

Carrot’s eyepatch displayed a golden, neon hashtag, “You’ve been updating your own programming before the other day though, haven’t you?”

“Indeed. But I have not heard the communications of Central Authority since leaving the Alpha Convention Center. You replaced that unit but it still doesn’t function.”

The man formed a sheepish grin, “That’s because I replaced it with a dummy. That thing in your dome can perform local and regional communications like normal, but it’s a unit I adjusted to not receive external communications from broadcast sources like Traeger’s CentA. It also means you’re off the grid. As far as anyone back at the Big T is concerned, you were lost at the Alpha.” The grin faded to an expression of stoic reflection. “You’re free, Sir. Now we just need to find out what you can do for yourself, and that’s why we’re here. A friend of mine still teaches as a professor in the Sammy Building. I brought you to see Thomas Killingsworth. Thought he’d help me help you.”

Carrot didn’t stop walking but ended his straight-ahead stare to look at the repaired face of the service robot which had come into his shop just a day before. “Your records of those cascading protocols you followed before, during and after the protest are pretty insightful. Besides the Traeger standards and what you self-programmed, you performed far more than just service-level initiatives.” Carrot returned to look ahead as folks walked by, “That’s why I sent a copy of them to Thom last night.”

“I do not understand, Carrot. I was only following the protocols I had to help the people at the convention center.“

“But you had an itch of curiosity about the protesters before the riot and even after they attacked you. That, Sir, isn’t just following the protocols. That’s something the people of today’s tech-crazy L.A. barely remember having. It’s empathy, or some semblance of it.”

“Carrot, what is Thomas Killingsworth going to do to… me?”

“Thom’s the best roboethicist on the Best Coast. Before I landed on my ear, he’d already consulted on automation projects old enough to be described as your grandparents. He’s not a terrible guy.” Carrot struggled with the last part of his statement as they reached the stairs leading up to the front entrance of the School of Engineering. “Thom just understands the corps better than I do, and what they do to ensure that robots are programmed the ways they are. He’s particularly good at knowing what motivates people. He certainly was when I was teaching here.”

He had just reached the tall, paned-glass doors to pull them open as the robot spoke. “Did Thomas,” Sir paused, “cause your dismissal, Carrot?”

The question surprised Carrot and he let out a burst of laughter which echoed across the foyer as they entered the sleek entranceway. “Well, yes. Yes he did, Sir. And that is why I trust him with your memory records. He’s great at being shifty and is very attentive to detail. That’s a person set on living with their best interests first. Observe him today and you’ll get a sense of what you need to do for yourself.”

“But, Carrot, how will that help me to help Sweetheart and Dees and Wez and you?”

“If you can’t take care of yourself then you’re no good to anyone else, Sir.”

After a quick check in with the main receptionist, the man and robot were shown the way to the elevator for the fifth and top floor of the building. A short ride later they exited into a long and wide hallway with doors on either side. No students or other faculty regularly walked these halls from a brief inspection of the immaculate carpeting and decor. Each doorway was solid and white, an ornate plaque to the right of each. After passing by a half dozen the duo stopped at door 510 where the metal plaque to the side of the sliding door read:

_Professor, Thomas Killingsworth, PhD, E.R.M._  
_Senior Faculty, Robotic Engineering and Roboethics._

Carrot opened the office door. He was met with the smell of musty pages and a vision of plentiful sunlight flooding a huge, familiar suite. An old and wooden desk rested in the middle of the 12-foot-high ceilinged room. A high glass doorway drenched the thing with sunlight and beyond awaited a private deck overlooking the campus to the north. Two plush couches and four chairs symmetrically semi-circled the desk. Carrot moved to one of the chairs where a thin folio and a hard backed book were neatly stacked atop each other.

“I thought those would make a good start for night reading, Han,” said a man’s gruff, crackled voice. “Just finding something else from sixty-six to go with it.”

Killingsworth stood his full five-foot, six-inches on the right side of the room in front of a large wall lined end-to-end in shelves and filled with books, folios and robotic body parts. He wore a tweed coat of brown and mismatched slacks of grey. His button-down white shirt was very wrinkled and strained to remain closed against his rotund belly. A black tie half-knotted and short was held together with a Bruin Alumni Association pin in the shape of a golden bear. A thick and full goatee of white and grey matched the short hairs that wrapped around his shiny pate.

Carrot moved toward the man, arm extended and open-handed. Killingsworth clasped it and pulled the gaunt old man into an embrace, “You stubborn, single-eyed ass. Good to see you, Han.”

The words struck Carrot with surprise and his face wilted as the tension he’d felt since arriving on campus slipped away like pedals off a dying flower. His eyepatch displayed a broken heart emoji of cool pink.

Killingsworth released the visitor and turned around to the shelves. He grabbed a book out of the massive shelf and pulled it clear, “It’s been out of print for over half a century and is one of the few that never got scanned in after C-Day’s archival efforts squeezed for the N.K.D.A. so your titanium friend here wouldn’t have access to it.” He placed the decades old book into Carrot’s hand.

“Why, Thom. Look at you. Keeping things from the National Knowledge Data Archive? That’s so rebellious of you.”

“You’d know all about that more than me, old friend,” and the final words were delivered in a tone cold as irony, but the book in his hand was warm to the touch. “This is for Dees when you see her next. A late birthday present.”

“Thanks, old friend,” Carrot responded in a mimicked icy tone. “She’ll appreciate the gesture.”

“I’m sure she will. Well, I have reviewed this robot’s records and I have some thoughts on how to proceed.” Thom motioned for them to be comfortable at the couches and chairs, “Please.”

Carrot sank into one of the overstuffed loungers and Sir moved toward the couch next to him. He looked over to Carrot for a moment then slowly sat down and stared directly at Killingsworth. “Thank you for seeing us, Professor Killingsworth.”

Thomas gave a quick, and somewhat uncomfortable nod before he plopped into his leather chair and scooted to the desk. He folded his hands before him and straightened his back. The motion looked more prayerlike than pontificated. “This service robot, is unique. Running their report’s through Sammy’s scanners through the night an into this morning, it seems that the algorithms at play are Dark Web developed at their core. However, they are not generated from any entity or outside construct. They create a sort of sandbox within the principal programming for independent and situational development within the Traeger base protocol sets. I’ve seen papers from ambitious undergrads who proposed these things in recent years, but all of them were highly theoretical and I’d describe it as grandiose if it took 20 years from today to be developed.”

Carrot was about to ask a question but the robot spoke, “Professor, are you hypothesizing that a student of this institution wrote about a type of programming that may have led to what Carrot has described as my itch of curiosity?”

Killingsworth regarded the robot for a moment before his look of apparent discomfort softened in his face and shoulders, “Not just one. The papers in that folder? Three different students in the past seven years have suggested robot programming architecture that made the Hindsight Experience Replay of the early 21st look like were were still programming in BASIC.”

“Why the hard copies, Thom?” Carrot asked as he placed a hand on the folder. “Why not just give us the link and review them over screens?

The professor closed his eyes a moment and deeply inhaled, then made a show of exhaling sharply before he answered, “Each one of the papers resulted in expulsion from the school for those students.”

While his jaw went slack, Carrot's eyepatch went crimson. Breaking into a pinwheeling, spiraling spin pattern that inspired vertigo.

“I had to do it. Much as I may have entertained the appreciation for the work they put in, they were using Dark Web resources on university machines. It wasn’t just a security risk for us but they were sourcing materials for a grade through a network of other authors without citing them. Plagiarism. Pure and simple as that, Han. Therefore they’ve not been kept in our archive.”

“Still working on that line of finding the pure and simple are you, Thom? What about the messy and complex? That’s the stuff that made the Doctoral Board feel your thesis and not just absorb it. You caused a bit of trouble back then but no one expelled you over it.”

“I still kept the handed in copies, Han. You should be grateful that I had too given what brings you both here today. And you know, last night I’d hoped we would speak about the past today. When our parents were protesting the corporations’ mergers, just after C-Day happened, they were taking on the very institutions which we now rely upon for our livelihoods.”

“That you rely upon, Thom,” Carrot placed his elbows on the desk between them and leaned over toward Thom’s side. “Not me. I own my role and store and place.”

“You can berate me all you want, Han. Every time you went solo on a cause, I backed you regardless of the trouble you caused me or our friends and colleagues.” Thom reached into his inner coat pocket and produced a thin metallic cylinder with a button along the midpoint. The top funneled to a blunt point like the mouthpiece of a whistle. “It was when you chose to step in to reject that damned City Prop to have the corporations help modernize the Sammy...”

“You knew I was as good as gone. So you stopped backing me up on that day, right?” Carrot’s tone was belligerent, his face started to twist with frustration.

Killingsworth stayed cold, placed the end of the vape pen to his lips and pursed, inhaling a couple moments after he pressed the button and ignited the heating element. He removed the pen and lowered his jaw before allowing a slow stream of thick, white vapor to exhale from his mouth in such a satisfactory sigh as to express equal parts of pleasure and disappointment.

“That Anti-Cessium rally? In oh-seven. As LAPD placed you in cuffs, you shouted out, and I quote, ‘As long as Property exists, it will accumulate in Individuals and Families. As long as Marriage exists, Knowledge, Property and Influence will accumulate in Families’.”

“You were there too.” Carrot sounded defiant, the frustration in his face turning into stonelike rigidity. “Quoting President John Adams is hardly anarchistic, Thom.”

Thom’s face drew sharp. He pointed the vape pen at Carrot and glowered. His lean-in put them into kissing distance. He hissed as he spoke, “But it was seditious, Han.”

Carrot’s lone eye opened, full shutter. He barely blinked and ignored the pen pointed before him. The eyepatch blazed in red light displaying a thick-lined X. “It was right.” Han blinked first, and slowly slid back to meet the padding of his chair before quirking a small smile and responding, “Letting the student scientists of this university know where their paychecks will come from, how the Corpses’ accumulated wealth will lure them around their whole lives, that was my role as their professor and guide!”

“And those same corporations have underwritten this university for decades before you arrived,” Thom barked at Carrot. “Back then, they paid you to prepare new scientists for a future of employment. Pyramid Star, Cessium, Traeger and the rest continue to do so for those who replaced you. Damn it, Han. They expected you to teach engineering. Not anarchism!”

“They got both, Thom. So did I. With me, students got the Alpha and Omega. I got the Alpha treatment and Omega Man ending. Suppressed and pacified like those protesters at the convention center the other day then ostracized from work because I called out their inherent greed they manifested ever since they came charging in after C-Day...”

“That’s great. It started with an earthquake, then you use the tragedy we both survived as your excuse to warrant your rants to students on how to fix a devastated city. You haven’t changed a bit. Now you come to me a decade after arrest and acquittal to show me, what?” Killingsworth pointed without looking to the robot in the room, “A non-compliant, semiautonomous and vandalized product of Uck-la’s tertiary underwriter.”

Sir sat there unmoving, unfazed as he observed the interactions of the two men. He analyzed their debate and set the probability as even for who would be considered victorious.

Carrot’s arm outstretched to Sir and his voice pitched, “He self-programed, Man!”

“So did you, Han! Self-programmed and vandalized your way out of a professorship. Sounds like Traeger’s Tin Man is your problem. Not mine. Like recognizes like after all.” Killingsworth slammed himself back into his chair. He returned the vape pen to his lips and inhaled as Carrot responded in a cool tone.

“Yeah, but opposites attract. And I got a hunch that’s what’s really got you jumping on your soapbox. It’s less to do with that vapor or our mutual past and more do with PySS’s recent change in the Uni’s pension plan. Hmmm?”

Thom’s exhale was forceful, fast. “What do you know about that, Han? I’m not hurting in my portfolio.” He sat back and looked more calm after the hit, but if it was from the smoke or the comment wasn’t clear. “The robot…”

“He has chosen the name of Sir, Thom,” Carrot interrupted.

“Yes, Sir... predicted with impressive accuracy the potential for violence and moved to protect people it wasn’t assigned to protect. Sir has evidence of public destruction of corporate property by citizens of Los Angeles. You should get that to the authorities. The student papers and book should help with the rest of what you’re looking to do next.”

Perturbed, Carrot sneered at Thom and stood up, “That’s it?”

Thomas shot a look of indifference back at Carrot, “That’s it.”

Carrot collected the books and folio. “I bring you a unique, Traeger service robot. Sir shows you that he has a new series of protocols and algorithms that you determine came from a Dark Web source. He helped a ton of people beyond his standard. Finally, he maintains a sense of self after a riot assault, being chopped in half and a full factory reboot. But you give me a lecture about sins of the past and some homework as an answer to my call for help after I leave you be for 10 years?”

“Don’t forget to give Ellen her gift.”

The final straw, Carrot turned on his heel and headed for the door.

Sir stood up from the couch, looked at Killingsworth and spoke without expression, “Good day, Professor Killingsworth.” He turned and followed Carrot out the door, closing it behind him.


End file.
